


lord almighty, the one with bad puns.

by TheZol



Series: Galran clues [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Puns, Badass Keith (Voltron), Clueless Shiro (Voltron), F/M, Facepalm moment, Humor, Keith loves mayo, M/M, Oblivious Shiro (Voltron), Shiro loves super thick smoothies, like grossly thick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZol/pseuds/TheZol
Summary: “So, before we begin, any question? Any health condition, any prob—.”“No problems.” That voice was cut glass, raspy and it was raising a prickle on the back of Shiro’s neck.“I’m sensing a very expensive lawsuit.”“Aha.” Shiro affirms, his noncommittal noise paying no mind to Claudia’s I’m-so-done drawl.





	lord almighty, the one with bad puns.

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite a drabble, not quite a fic.
> 
> Triggers: None.
> 
> Warnings: Really bad puns from everyone’s golden boy. There are cameos of Roy Focker and Claudia LaSalle, both beloved characters from the anime and manga Robotech The Macross Saga. 
> 
> A/N: Written just for fun, nothing else here to say.

Kolivan’s booming voice echoed in the room, “The only way this is possible is if Galra blood runs through your veins.”

 

Shiro’s silver eyes widened in realization as a series of _specific_ moments with Keith passed through his mind.

**i.**

_'Cause your kisses lift me higher_  
Like a sweet song of a choir  
And you light my morning sky  
With burning love

 

“Keith… uhh” He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t stop staring –or fathom a full sentence or a coherent thought for that matter- he was in a state of total confusion. They were waiting for their Big Belly Burger meal, at his favorite booth near the bar, at the moment he could barely hear the large group of customers –mostly Garrison attendants- ordering drinks, all his attention was focused on his raven haired companion ~~date~~ “...Wha—what are you doing?” He didn’t hide very well his nervousness.

The sound of the thick substance _gurgling_ triggered goosebumps all over his skin.

Shiro saw how Keith removed the thin straw from his mouth and the most accurate manifestation of doe-eyes he had ever had the pleasure of staring at in his twenty two years of existence stared back at him.

“I’m drinking…?” The question mark was almost explicit by the way the younger fighter pilot tilted his head.

“ Yeah, um, I see, but –uh…” He was feeling the sudden urge to rub his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans; Keith’s eyebrows were starting to form a tiny frown. “… you are drinking * **mayonnaise*** ” “ _with a straw, as if it is a fucking Fanta”_ His mind supplied but he forced his lips to remain closed, by biting his inner cheek, _hard_.

“I know.” The little shrug ended the conversation for Keith, who just reassumed his task, paying no mind to the profuse sweating emanating from his frightened companion.

Shiro’s eyes were the size of plates as he turned pale, completely dismayed ~~horrified~~. _“At least he looks happy”._ He couldn’t stop grimacing when the gurgling turned louder and Keith hummed happily –almost giddy- in satisfaction.

“Ahh.” Satisfied, Keith opened his eyes before he blinked rapidly in surprise at finding near his face…

“Ketchup?” Shiro ended up offering with a sheepish smile. 

**ii.**

“I can hear you brooding.” The raspy drowsy mumble made him smile.

“I’m not.” Without an operational wormhole generator and more than a few broken Teludav lenses, the castle is nothing but a stranded nightmare with no cover whatsoever in the vastness of space, he can’t help but feel a little anxious about sitting ducks to Zarkon… **again**. 

“Can’t really blame me for worrying about the photochemical damage in our internal organs after the _healthy_ dose of laser radiation we received today.” Puffs of air materialized with each word, they all went to bed _exhausted_ , including Coran, who didn’t have the time ~~will or energy~~ to adjust the temperature scans of the thermostat… or even activate the lights of their rooms for that matter. At the moment the two of them were in his room, with their covers and closeness and touches as only protection against the inhuman temperatures. The events of today and the irrefutable irony of the hysterical cosmic joke that was their lives left them as nothing but a pair of almost-too-literal-deadweights in his freezing bed.   

“Mmm… my fatalistic nerd.” Keith muttered weakly more asleep than awake, his small head nestled on his lap.

Still, the accomplishment of another survived day, with _Keith_ at his side, it was enough.

More than enough.

_Enough to hurt._

“Lance even prophesied we’ll all have Presbyopia before we are 30.”

“I remember hearing that.” 

“Still can’t see?” Shiro half-whispered, not quite able to resist brushing his fingers through Keith’s humid hair, if he dared to draw closer his nose to the ebony threads he would smell a frail track of smoke.

Today almost all die scorched like grilled chicken… Pidge’s blatant euphemism, not his.

“Just like—” a tired groan, words low and barely coherent- “…blurry clouds of smoke?... really dark ones.” Of all of them, Keith still presented the aftereffects, temporary blindness. After seeing how the enigmatic purple pigmentation of the red paladin eyes turned _gold_ , Coran and Allura hurriedly promised they’ll turn operational the cryo-pods first thing tomorrow.

“Don’t worry baby, tomo—”

Like always, he is interrupted by the snort of amusement Keith makes at hearing the nickname.

And he dies a bit inside.

He sighs hopelessly. “I’m glad my love for you keeps being nothing but a big fat joke to you.” He deadpans in indignation while he nuzzles his way through the soft strands that belong to the love of his life and settles his lips against the delicate eyelashes he can’t stop kissing. _“My soulless munchkin, nothing endears you.”_

The breathless raspy chuckles Keith gives melt his insides and leave him boneless.  “You are ridiculous." within each exhalation travels a caress that warms the thin skin covering his hipbones.

“Mm—hmm.” He affirms while he situates himself more comfortably against the wall, reassuming his readings from the Altean tablet.

He patiently waits for any acknowledgement that Keith is falling asleep, that somehow his presence is soothing him, but as time passes, the younger pilot curls unconsciously closer to his only source of warmth, his embrace vehement and natural, cold hands came up to wrap around Shiro’s leg, his fingers curling into the fabric of Shiro’s pants. His faint breathing a little too fast and his grip a little too tight.    

_“Why is he still presenting the aftereffects of the lasers? And why his eyes a—are **gold**?”_

_“Shiro, you must remember that this ship wasn’t exactly designed accounting the physiognomy of your species, we don’t know for sure the effects our engineering could have on any of your kind.”_

_“Maybe what is happening to number four has to do specifically with humans with that type of irises? What are the characteristics of humans with violet eyes?”_

_“I—I don’t know, until I met him… I thought people with violet eyes were a myth.”_

_“A myth? Oh young boy, your civilization it’s so primitive and weird.”_

**iii.**

“… you reading?”

The muffled sounds around him turned sharper the moment he recognized the raspy voice, like on autopilot, all his senses focused their attention on the person sitting in front of him –pupils dilated, breath ricocheted, heartbeat propelled- _dum, ba- dum, dum, dum_. As if the raven haired cadet was an ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad, his whole body _lit_ up, his entire form reacting to the same presence all at once, capillaries in his skin stretched and the abrasive heat left him jittery and vulnerable and _alive_.  

“Yeah?” His silver eyes never separated from the nonchalant lithe fluidity that was almost sewed to the lean body, it seemed that Keith couldn’t find something in his duffel bag.

“I asked about what you are reading.” Keith reiterated vaguely, too engrossed rummaging for his tablet in the war zone he called bag.

Feign casualness Shiro commented, “I’m reading an article about anti-gravity” he couldn’t stop the giant grin stretching his lips, “Aaand just as Commander Holt told me… it’s impossible to put down!” 

The lounge went cryptically silent. The air in the room suddenly heavy and the peace completely crumbled.

“Oh my.” “He’s gotten so bad.” “Spare us the jokes, Shiro.”

“Sorry, I Apollo—gize.” He ended up taunting.

The sound of more than a few chairs scraping against the floor could be still distinguished as the room was suddenly filled with a chorus of lamenting groans.

“I’m outta here.” “Can’t wait for your lame ass puns being in the border of the solar system!”

Heh, no appreciation for good mood in this world.

Smiling to himself Shiro redirects his attention at his companion.

Finding Keith –tiny nose scrunched up- heavily concentrated on his… hand?

“…Keith?”

“Is something wrong with your hand?”

“My hand?... N—no why?”

“Then why can’t you put the tablet down?”

_“Why I can’t pu—…oh”_

Oh, indeed.

**iv.**

“Floor L5 – Recognized Lieutenant Claudia LaSalle - Access Granted.” The artificial voice saluted them as they walked alongside onto the empty longue. 

“As I’ve been telling you Shiro, each satellite will also contain an ultra-stable laser; optical systems aboard the satellites will lock the two lasers to a single frequency…” Her words were supplemented by hand gestures that became more frantic as Claudia got more and more engrossed into her explanation.

“So essentially, it’s like creating a single laser operating at a single frequency.” He added, placing their tupperwares on a pristine table.

“Exactly!” She clasped her hands with enthusiasm, warm eyes sparkling, “when a gravitational wave propagates through the solar system it will cause a motion between the satellites, bringing them closer together, then farther apart, and then closer together again!” The second lieutenant sat gracefully and shared with him a complicit smile as he pulled out a chair so she could sit down first.

“Which will cause a Doppler shift of the laser light as it travels between the spacecraft.” Shiro nodded to himself, starting to immerse in the topic as well.

Taking advantage of the solitude of the place and desperate to stop feeling how the irking material adhered to his skin, he casually removed his uniform jacket, it was late in the afternoon, nobody was at the time hanging around that floor, so there was no real risk of exposure to an Iveson-mania encounter, he could feel the uncomfortable beads of sweat sliding down his neck and spine, conglomerating and sticking the cotton fabric of his shirt to his shoulder blades, consequence of enduring more than 12 hours covered in polyester in an infrastructure with no enough refrigeration power to be situated in the middle of the dessert.

“Yes! I tell you Shiro, if the board approves the installation of optical lattice atomic clocks on board of the spacecraft, we could detect gravitational waves!”  Her gaze turned dazed, relaxed and calm. “... Can you _imagine_?” It weren’t just her hazel eyes –the drop of her shoulders, the hood of her eyelids- her mind and soul were surely wrapped up picturing a network of such clocks in space. 

“It certainly sounds pretty awesome.” It really was, Shiro knew her theory would allow physicists to perform new tests of fundamental laws of nature and searches for the unknown, it was _groundbreaking_. So, with all the pride and conviction he could muster for his friend, he couldn’t stop assuring her. “And if anyone can do it, it’s you Claudia.” He meant every word, Claudia was incredibly talented and he had nothing but massive proportions of faith for her.

“I’m not so sure about that,” She diverted her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails unconsciously scratching her head –thinking hard and trying to clear a complex puzzle- messing with the small curls of her short afro. “I still consider that it’s highly unlikely the Garrison would want to go with a completely new technology at this stage… I was thinking in asking your friend, the son of Commander Holt?… Umm.” She squinted her eyes with uncertainty, trying to recall the name.

While leaning forward to reach for his sport bottle, a faint metallic sound startled him. “…Matt?” He tucks his dog tags inside his shirt. Shiro pulls the top of the bottle, wasting no time to satiate his thirst for his green thickie, the rich flavor of Kiwi and Kale combining with the sweetness of milk... his smoothie recipe was a _religious experience_. 

“Yes, Matt Holt, I was thinking in asking for his help to validate some results, I’ve heard he is the best at configuring big data based devices.”

“I’ll ask him, but knowing Matt, he’ll never pass an opportunity to work with you.” He commented as offhandedly as he could –which was a debatable ~~deplorable~~ performance- and at seeing from the corner of his eye how Claudia’s dark skin heated up, Shiro knew he may have _kind of slightly_ fucked up… just a little. Oh well, it’s not like from just _one_ comment Matt’s worrisome crush will be revealed.

_“You know she is with somebody…”_

_“Save that sickening kindheartedness of yours for someone who needs it, and let me stop your stuck-in-the-22th-century primitive mind, I don’t have a crush on officer LaSalle, I—”_

_“-B—but you just said so!“_

_“Shh! I have a nerd crush on that woman’s **brain**. I feel how my neurons fire up, how my synapses rewires, my whole mind floors each time I re-watch her lecture on the nonequilibrium Green’s function approach to the photoionization process in atoms.”  _

_“… nerd crush? Are you calling her a nerd?”_

_“Look at me Shirogane, I AM THE NERD!”_

Claudia’s exasperated sigh brought him out of Matt’s antics.

“I have a guest lecture in 15 minutes.” With an impatient double click on the screen of her smartwatch, holographic numbers the size of a watermelon materialized in the middle of the table. The artificial blue light not only emphasized the tardiness, but also her frown. “And I’m _starving_.” Claudia said as if she was condemning her body.

Shiro couldn’t avoid gazing down and deflate at his innocent Tupperware with his still untouched chicken wrap.  

“Roy promised me he would be done by now.” Remorseful for believing _again_ the words said by the pilot in question, she crossed her arms over her chest in aggravation. Hazel eyes narrowed like a proverbial sign of pain waiting for the apparition of the entity responsible for their still empty stomachs.

Aha, and he didn’t sign up for this.

As the omnipresent third law of Newton says, to every action there is always opposed an equal reaction, by being exposed to the impossible-to-ignore presence of Roy Focker for almost more than half a decade -including the fortuitous cohabitation of a room no larger than 7ft x12ft for three uninterrupted years- Shiro has recollected an amount of patience that exceeds Fort Knox gold reserves. Being joined-by-the-hip-since putting a foot in the Garrison to that obnoxious son of a bitch has surely made him a patient human.  

Good fucking riddance.

His stomach morosely agrees.

“… For how long Iverson punished him?” He cut off, darting his eyes for the first time to the wall of glass none of them had dared to look through.  

Below them it was situated the gym where freshmen have been pleasantly reunited to endure a self-defense course imparted by no other than Roy Focker, Iverson’s personal cause of hair loss and bane of existence.

“He didn’t specify,” Claudia commented scrutinizing her cuticles, since long-ago desensitized of Roy’s antics. “But between you and me, this time Roy did _seriously_ crossed the line.”

If Claudia thinks that imparting a lecture with a hangover was crossing a line, Shiro wasn’t going to be the one telling her of the time her boyfriend flew the simulator _hammered_ -intoxicated beyond inebriation, honest-to-god shitfacing on the control panel- Besides, that time Roy surpassed a record, shooting down more than five planes.  

_“How dare that brute shit pump say that my behavior is unacceptable?!”_

_“I can't for the life of my grandfather think why not, you were drunk-flying… and insulted his mom.”_

_“Get off your high horse Shirogane, first! It was just a simulator, and second! I nailed FIVE PLANES!”_

_“You just said to Iverson and I quote *Fuck off and go back to the Cyclops whore who gave birth to you.*”_

_“That filth should worship the floor I walk on… and yours too, you are great too, so great.”_

_“I appreciate the sentiment buddy, but from now on, check with me before you talk.”_

“I’m still not sure to whom the punishment really is, to Roy or the poor new cadets.” Claudia inquired nonchalantly.

The following silence dwarfed their concerns the more they entertained the notion.          

“Maybe we should check?” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, palms facing the ceiling, subconsciously imploring to the god of mercy an uneventful afternoon.

“Good idea.” 

Both of them stepped closer to the glass wall with slow caution and dread -not really wanting but having to- peering down to come across Garrison’s first class training facilities, there was indeed a bunch of freshmen gathered around the boxing ring and on top of the platform was the 7’-1” individual called Roy Focker, his height and that hair made him stand out like the big yellow bird thingy from Sesame Street.          

With a sigh that exhaled a sentiment that goes further than dread, Claudia summoned the audio.

“So me, and you and you too, I guess? And everyone! We’re all aware of the importance of healthy eating and adequate exercise and all that crap professor Montgomery wastes ninety minutes of our lives to tell us in that introductory conference, _ninety_ minutes that won’t ever come back, may I add.” A deep confident chuckle boomed through the speakers, even from the distance, Shiro could see how his friend’s blond head shook in exaggerated mock-annoyance.

“Oh, Focker.”

Shiro only nods in agreement with his colleague, running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the persistent beads of sweat.

“So to save us all the additional suffering, I will therefore cut the chase, only to say that I’m not addressing this class as self-defense but as self-preservation,” Shiro followed with his eyes how the blond officer kept a languid walk from one corner to the other, trying to make eye contact with as many young faces as possible, cracking a jovial smile here and there. “Up there or wherever, if you are going to be assigned into our atmosphere or fucking space, you gotta have your eyes wide open and your fingers prepared on the trigger! Let me be clear, there is no place for nonsense! You gotta be fast, you gotta be strong and you gotta be smart.”

Leadership 101 from Lieutenant Roy Focker.

“So,…” -Absently he readjust the wireless microphone closer to his lips- “any questions?”  Roy drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.

A cadet with long green hair raised her hand. “Eh… sir?”

The pilot raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“What is your name?”

_Oh no._

_Please don’t._

The wolfish grin was as sharp as a butcher’s knife. “Lieutenant Focker, young lady.”

_Aaand he did it._

The silence was _sepulchral_.

Until –of course- a lanky brunet couldn’t hold his snort any longer and like a collective plague, most of the crowd erupted too.  

"All right, all right." Roy accepts the dig good-naturedly, as if they're all very good friends and this is a very old joke between them.

“Why Iverson _does_ this?” Claudia whispered in consternation.

“… There must be some inner joke somewhere that neither of us understands yet.” He commented while leaning his shoulder against the glass –arms crossed and attention existing solely by morbid curiosity-.

“So let’s start!” Without breaking eye contact with the crowd, Roy tosses his bomber jacket, effortlessly landing it on the nearest post, earning a series of awed looks from his audience. “Any volunteer?” Most of the girls in the crowd considered it endearing –the tousled gold mane, the gleeful spark behind the crystalline ocean colored eyes- how the officer rubbed his hands in glad anticipation, but that boy-charm show didn’t work with Claudia or him, who truly knew the meaning behind the charade. “No one?” It was the eagerness of a predator with a tasty meal about to be served.

“What about… you!” And just like Moses stretched his hand over the Red Sea and by the grace of God a path was opened through the water, the cadets scattered like a halloween patterned parade, enough to expose a tunnel so the chosen victim could cross to the promised land- “Angry little thing over there! Front and center, come into the eye of the storm.” -just like the Israelites.

“He is so predictable.” Despite being Roy’s girlfriend for over two years, it sounds like Claudia still reaches new levels of disbelief.

“Always the eccentric.” He concedes with a lopsided smile.

“He’s an ass.”

Shiro’s silver eyes widened startled at hearing the uncharacteristic spite behind the reproach. He turned his head slightly to the side, to see how her slim figure retreated, the click-clack of her heels echoing down the longue. He was going to follow her and finally eat his wrap, but the commotion below them recaptured his attention.

It seems that angry-little-thing was some crimson hooded cadet that has been keeping his distance from the crowd, from a level above, all Shiro could see was a bloody spot in motion, he couldn’t discern if the indifference transpired by the cadet’s posture was deliberate or not –his intuition told him it was- but he’ll give the kid some credit, he remained imperturbable as he leisurely walked to the wooden stairs, ignoring the whispering crowd and the dubious looks like a pro, always staring ahead, no hesitation, with his hands hidden inside the windrunner pockets, features out of sight.

_He is used to the attention._

_Unwanted attention._

You only obtain that defiant elusive ease after being the center of attention your whole life.

After struggling with it until you learn how to survive and don’t let it t ~~hem~~ affect you. 

Again, his intuition whispered at him that it wasn’t a matter of choice.

_Survival mechanism._

With an out of character impatience, Shiro stretched out his neck trying to look better, as if the motion could accelerate the kid’s movements, who was currently kicking off his shoes. Silver moonstones narrowed, if Shiro squinted hard enough, he distinguishes what he believes are a pair of customized Jordan basketball Nikes, also scarlet.    

“Claudia, can y—?”

“Already ahead of you.”

With irrational desperation, he darted his gaze to his left, finding Claudia with a remote control on her hand, pointing at the ceiling hidden screen, the monstrosity of seventy inches was still dropping down. 

_Come on._

Barefoot and with the red windrunner laying forgotten on the floor, the cadet took the final steps to enter the ring, where Roy has been waiting for him –sarcastic wave and everything-, holding the ropes so he could pass.

The static sound coming from the television caught Shiro’s attention, and after whipping his neck at light speed he was _finally finally finally_ able to _see_.

The first time ace pilot Takashi Shirogane –galaxy garrison royalty, triumph embedded veins, sun in human limbs- gets to see Keith Kogane, it’s in beautiful high definition.  

With a touch on the screen – _how he got so close? when he moved?-_ the camera feed zoomed at his will.

 _Long and lithe_ ~~lethal,~~ the cadet entered the ring with cat-grace and a sinuous silhouette created by the perfect arch of his spinal column, the sight made something catch behind Shiro’s teeth ~~-hot ashes, smoke, flaming scotch-~~ he’ll choke on his own heartbeat.

“Identify yourself, cadet.”

“Keith.”

No salute, no “Sir”, not even a last name.

_Discipline issues._

Without the windrunner jacket, the cadet – _Keith, the name is Keith-_ looked _exposed_ , black running tights, loose Garrison black tank top, tousled raven mane, creamy fair skin; the monochromatic outfit adhered to the runner physique like liquid asphalt on an unblemished surface. And Shiro absorbed it all, the tension on the junctions, the rapid reddening of pale-skin-covered shoulder blades, the strain on shoulders and neck, the dig of fingernails into bright red little palms – _and God, everything flushes so easy and so pretty_ \- the _too_ controlled breath, Shiro can almost picture the mantra _Calm down,_ can almost hear the cadet telling himself. _Calm down. This isn't new._

The mask wasn’t perfect.  

The indifference wasn’t a survival mechanism per se, it was a _control barrier_. 

_This one wasn’t going to quit easy._

Roy quirked an eyebrow in amusement -the back of his knuckles rubbing against the rough stubble at his jaw- oceanic green eyes pondered down the little menace, critically assessing, when his gaze returned to the cadet’s face he let his eyes linger as a languid smile stretches his lips, no trace of annoyance, no insult taken, just pleasure at the entertainment ahead.  

To others, Roy will appear as someone unpredictable, a hot-headed pilot who didn’t think ahead, but Shiro knew him, he knew the extent of his abilities, his strengths and his tactics, and he knew what Roy was doing. He picked up a troublemaker archetype and was planning on making an example with it. Usually Shiro would approve, he’s used the same approach before, but-  

Roy is twenty three and twice Keith’s size.

“So, kids!” The blond officer boomed to the expectant crowd –screaming and certainly spitting at Keith’s face, the angle didn’t permit Shiro to see more than a narrow graced nose and untamed bangs, but he catches how the cadet bit his bottom lip, as if physical pain refrained him- “Don’t be nervous, this is just our first lesson, you’re allowed to commit mistakes and learn from them, as I said before, my course it’s about self-preservation, and in real life, while facing danger in war or the streets, we won’t be carrying with us boxing gloves or anything similar, therefore, we won’t be using them now.” Shiro sees Roy’s hand gestures as he walks again from corner to corner –palms always up- connoting ~~feign~~ surrender, placation, friendliness. “And don’t be afraid, Keith” The saccharine chuckle crumbled the act. “I won’t harm you.” _Much._

While popping his neck, Roy’s long legs ate up the space between them quickly, until he was almost hovering over the cadet’s surly aura.

“So, before we begin, any question? Any health condition, any prob—.”

“No problems.” That voice was cut glass, raspy and it was raising a prickle on the back of Shiro’s neck.

“I’m sensing a _very_ expensive lawsuit.”

“Aha.” Shiro affirms, his noncommittal noise paying no mind to Claudia’s _I’m-so-done_ drawl.

“Let me change the—“

“Woa, wha—” Shiro will deny it until the end of times, but an incredibly embarrassing _whine_ – ~~he’s got a puppy in his belly kind of whine~~ \- crawled from the bottom of his being, it was so startling that he couldn’t control it. He wasn’t sure if he was more distressed by the noise or the lost signal.

“ _Relax_ Shiro, I’m just looking for a better angle, you’ll be staring at temperament issues in no time.”

Those silver moonstones blinked down at her, obviously confused. Claudia could tell the exact moment his thoughts caught up because he started spluttering and looking anywhere but her face.

“What—no! Why would you, I mean I—”

“Shirogane, you are ogling him.” She tried to keep her expression neutral but damn, Shiro was adorable.

“I—I—… _no!_ ”

Claudia only scoffed derisively at his indignation and continued searching for another camera feed channel, settling at one showing a different angle, one with full view of Keith’s face.

All he’s been allowed to see so far have been fast glimpses and an elegant profile framed by ebony strands, but it was enough, Shiro knew the guy was attractive, but once his eyes settled on the screen-,

It hasn’t been enough _at all_.

Youthful symmetrical – ~~angelic quality~~ \- features that blend gracefully into a delicate bone structure, high cheekbones, brows, forehead, small, softly featured nose, it has a refined Asian appeal, eyes that defy categorizing –and goddamn, they are _violet_ , scientists have spent obscene amounts of money, for centuries, trying to replicate that color and they’ve never been even close- and-

-that face it’s confidence and defiance perfectly balanced and it probably opens just about any door that Keith wants, doesn't it.

“Pretty.” Claudia comments.  

As if the seventy inches image wasn’t self-explanatory enough.

“You ever boxed before?” Roy inquired while his head tilted back slightly to show that brilliant ~~self-assured~~ white smile.

“Yes.” The monotone voice remained unfazed the exact same moment Roy’s joviality sunk.

“What, like, TRX, CrossFit? ‘Cause that won’t work for you here.” Shiro knew that Roy was probably trying to coax the cadet to open up more, but honestly, it was only making everything worse.

Keith’s frail façade of indifference finally cracks and shows brief annoyance at the statement.

_Don’t, be patient, wait._

_Your opponent is stronger and more experienced than you, you have to think._

_Patience yields focus._

“KICK THAT MULLET’S ASS!”

The cheer not only startled Shiro, but it distracted Keith, who turned his neck by reflex, trying to look for the impatient brunet who had screamed.

And Roy didn’t waste the opening.

“Rule number one, cadet. Never take your eyes off your opponent.”

_Keith!_

Precise and unforgiving, Roy threw a jab at Keith’s jaw, but it never made contact, with unprecedented speed and keen reflexes, the raven haired cadet rotated his body, using the heels to pivot counter-clockwise – ~~is left-handed?~~ -, allowing Roy’s punch to miss into the space milliseconds ago Keith just occupied, wasting no time, the cadet counter attacked with a jab of his own.  

Roy easily dodge it by taking a step back, the range of Keith’s arm was dwarfed by Roy’s legs.

_You’ll never win like that._

His mind was rapidly assessing the fighters’ characteristics, Shiro couldn’t find a scenario were the cadet ended victorious.

There were more than two feet of difference between them.  

Keith was out of his leag-

While taking the step back, Keith distracted Roy with a lead sidekick that landed on the blonde’s stomach, completely caught off guard; Roy instinctively lowers his hands down. At that moment Keith looked up trough long eyelashes and stepped down, body and mind in complete sync with his speed, the raven haired threw a spinning back fist, power coming from the spin.

_What the-_

Silver eyes stared stupefied the motion, how the back of the pale and _tiny_ fist connected with Roy’s right ear.

With no hesitation ~~mercy~~ and without taking any time to regain his breathing, Keith pivots again, and rotates his body, this time clockwise – ~~ambidextrous then~~ \- and like a wrecking ball at the end of a demolition crane, connects his heel with Roy’s solar plexus.

Roy’s gasp intensified the perception of the damage caused, Shiro knew, he knew that amount of pain comes from the spin, from the flawless execution in conjunction with the snap of the knee.

He thinks he hears Roy mutter a curse as he stumbles, the blond tries to stand prepared and block as he sees how Keith pivots again, aiming for his mid-section again, but this time, after the little menace spins, his left temple its hit with another heel, a high kick.

The momentum of the spin, the impeccable alignment of heel, ankle and lower leg channeled a force that if it wasn’t by mere power of will – ~~stubbornness~~ -, Roy would have fallen on his knees.

“Oh my, God! Roy!”

Shiro didn’t hear Claudia’s scream.

His ears don’t hear. His eyes don’t close, neither does his mouth. - _Holy shit_ \- He swears, somewhat befuddled, he must have _flatlined_ , but then he finds on the screen those violet eyes and for a moment, they are bright in a liquid, blazing ~~chaotic~~ way that’s so unlike any gemstone in the world, and then he understood the resemblance… -fierceness, a spark, life force- _Fire_ , fire doesn’t have a color, it has a spectrum, and it looks magnificent in violet. 

With a grunt more than a curse, “Mother Focker.” –and aren’t those nice last words before death- Roy threw another punch, a jab thrown while he grounded his body, projecting his force downwards.

_Too slow._

Shiro remained completely dumfounded, utterly surprised to the extent that he is unable to keep a rein on his mind. He’s witnessing, close up, effortlessness and lightness combined with speed, determination and precision.

_A lion among men._

Fearless, Keith’s knees kick up before he throws his legs on either side of Roy’s body, one high in the torso, the other just in the crease of the knees, providing the raven haired cadet enough leverage on either side of the lieutenant’s body. The two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle mass that is Roy Focker, were disregarded like a piece of paper between two blades of a scissor. Only, instead of slicing paper, Keith was using a combination of potential and kinetic energy to cut through Roy’s center of gravity.

Like a child tossing down a rag doll.

A rag doll of seven feet height and weights two hundred and sixty pounds.

_From where comes that goddamned force, it doesn’t make any sense._

**v.**

For Takashi Shirogane, there are only two types of people in this world, the ones who pour the cereal first and then there is-, **_no_** , correction, there is only _one_ type of people in the world, ‘cause those who pour the milk first in the bowl aren’t humans ~~are sickos~~ and shouldn’t be trusted.

He’s never experienced this kind of betrayal in his life.

“What _the hell_ are y—I mean what are you—”

“Hmm?” A bit perplexed by Shiro’s tone, Keith stares up through his eyelashes with curiosity, still pouring the Honey Nut Cheerios into the bowl _with milk_ , as if it has been poured _previously_.  

As if he’d poured the milk _first_.

**_He. poured. the. milk. fisrt!_ **

“… Shiro?” Was all the younger fighter pilot said, but what he truly meant was “ _Why are you looking at me like your flesh it’s gonna melt off your face?”_

“Why you poured the milk first?” He whispered, he couldn’t raise his voice, all his air has been knocked out of his system.

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, maybe it’s not what it looks like, right? Maybe it was a onetime thing. Maybe Keith wasn’t conscious of what he was doing.

It wasn't denial as long as there was still hope.

“What?” In other circumstances, Shiro would be endeared, the tilt of the head, the big almond eyes, the lazy morning look with the messy topknot, like he's got no goddamn idea how he looks like that, all relaxed lean lines and soft features, in other circumstances. At the moment, the atrocious crime overwhelmed his partner’s beauty.

“Baby, you put the cereal first, it's just against the laws of nature to do it any other way, the milk its liquid, it will find its way into the empty spaces via capillary action, you won’t want soggy cereal; adding the milk last lessens the time the cereal is in contact with it, thus preserving the crunchiness longer. It is just common sense that the cereal element should exist in the bowl first. Don’t you— Keith?—Where—Keith?!”

“It’s too early for your nonsense, Takashi!”

_You look like an angel_

_Walk like an angel_

_Talk like an angel_

_But I got wise_

_You're the devil in disguise_

_Oh, yes, you are_

_The devil in disguise_

As the luminescent lavender glow died down, while all masked Galrans were focusing their attention on the red paladin of Voltron, with the tiniest voice muttered in his life, silver eyes emptily staring at his shoes.

Shiro mumbled. “Oh.”

 

A/N: [Here](http://voltron.wikia.com/wiki/File:Roy_Fokker.png) is the reason behind the cameo.  

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title #1: Takashi, honey, all the signs were there.
> 
> Alternative title #2: How many sheith drabbles I can write while listening Presley's songs. 
> 
> No one can't convince me that Takashi Shirogane doesn't hear Elvis while getting ready for a date. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
